


Out of Body Experience (The First Touches Remix)

by laireshi



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: First Kiss, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Secret Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-16 10:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13634145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: Tony's getting used to having a body again after his time spent as an artificial intelligence. Steve helps.





	Out of Body Experience (The First Touches Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fog of Ages, Fog of Wars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354227) by [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42). 



> Thanks to FestiveFerret for beta!
> 
> This remix is part of a relay chain; you can find the full [masterlist](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Cap_Ironman_Relay_Remix_2018/profile) on the Collection profile page. (This fic is from the Animal Chain.)

Remembering what it’s like to have a body is not exactly easy or pleasant.

Tony stumbles over, his legs not quite listening to his brain. When someone catches him, Tony, still overwhelmed and more than a bit out of it, instinctively tries to push them away. He only succeeds at grabbing their shoulder, though, and somehow that feels familiar.

He raises his eyes, and it seems like it takes ages before they focus on the person holding him up with a steady grip.

“Steve,” he breathes.

***

It’s a work in progress, after that. The Stark tech pod that he’d designed for himself kept his body in a good shape. He doesn’t have muscle atrophy, and he doesn’t need to get used to eating normal food again. For all intents and purposes, it’s as if he just woke up from a nap.

Except he remembers what it’s like to be an artificial intelligence now, made of bytes and code, with an advanced hologram in place of a physical body, and it’s _off_ to have to worry about pesky issues like keeping warm or extending his muscles to type on a keyboard.

He keeps having to backspace, his fingers feeling stiff and clumsy. He knows it’s the first days, he knows it _has to_ pass soon, but having less than ideal control of his body is scary and upsetting. Not being able to work is worse. He’s just getting annoyed, trying to code, and he can’t trust himself to hold his hands steady enough to work on the armour.

“Hi there.”

Tony looks over his arm to see Steve holding out a cup of coffee. He hadn’t heard him coming in, but he nods gratefully and takes it from him. It shouldn’t feel like an accomplishment that he doesn’t drop the cup.

“Hi yourself,” he answers.

Steve nods at Tony’s screens. “Trouble?”

Tony sighs. He doesn’t know how to explain it. It’s not just his body giving him trouble. For a time, he’d been made of pure data. He was able to access any piece of information and program almost faster than he thought. And he doesn’t want to get back to it, not _exactly_. He told Friday as much: he’s human, not AI, he needs a body. But the easiness with which he could use networks . . . 

Extremis is the obvious solution, but Tony won’t ever make that mistake again. 

“It’ll get better,” Tony says. Steve doesn’t need his troubles; he’s got enough of his own. And yet, here he is, trying to take care of Tony, when it was Steve’s face that a villain used to take over the world.

“We could spar,” Steve offers. “Jump start your muscle memory.”

Tony chuckles. “I think I spent more time typing in my life, Steve.”

Steve looks away, briefly. He turns back to Tony almost immediately, but his smile is dimmer somehow. “Sure,” he says.

He doesn’t even try to convince Tony to join him, and suddenly Tony gets it.

“Steve,” he says, setting his coffee to a side and reaching out to touch Steve’s elbow. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Steve looks at Tony’s hand as if it were blue.

Tony’s fingers tighten around Steve’s arm through no will of his own. He consciously makes himself relax them. “Look—”

“I know,” Steve cuts in. “You’re twenty four hours out of the coma. I shouldn’t be asking you this. I’m sorry.”

“Not what I was about to say,” Tony tells him. “I can put on the armour if you want to get the energy out. But I wouldn’t be any challenge like that.” Or rather, it would be plain embarrassing to face Steve when he couldn’t trust his legs. He made it to his lab _without_ the use of the armour, but slowly, and while _taking it easy_ has never been Tony’s motto, he doesn’t particularly want to be thrown around the mat right now.

“It’s okay,” Steve says. “I can’t imagine what it must be like for you. I wasn’t in any way aware when I’d been in the ice, and you . . .” He trails off and covers Tony’s hand with his own. “Well, you saved me. Now and then.”

Tony’s breath catches. Suddenly, he’s hyperaware of his body. His heart is beating wildly, his own pulse deafening in his ears. Steve’s hand is unbelievably warm on his, Steve’s arm strong underneath it. It’s electric.

Their friendship has always been tactile. This, this is more.

“Can I try something else?” Steve asks. He’s whispering, as if he too understands how different this moment is.

Tony nods, his throat dry.

Steve uses his free hand to tip Tony’s chin up, his thumb caressing Tony’s jaw. He leans in. 

His movements are slow. There’s no mistaking his intention. Even right now, with his body not quite in order, Tony could make it clear if he didn’t want this.

But he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

When Steve finally kisses him, it’s almost chaste, barely there, like Steve’s afraid of ruining it almost as much as Tony is.

Tony’s eyes flutter closed, and he reaches out blindly to pull Steve in again. Steve goes with it, his hand on Tony’s shoulder. This kiss is longer, sweeter, Tony runs his tongue over Steve’s lips and Steve shivers.

They move away, but barely, just enough so that they can breathe and look at each other.

Tony tries to say something, but words escape him.

Steve’s smiling, content. “I love you,” he says. “Throughout everything, Tony. So many times we fought, so many times there were more important things—but now, after the last months . . . There’s never going to be a good time.”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “And it would probably mean we’re trapped in a fake reality.”

Steve takes Tony’s hands into his, runs his fingers over Tony’s knuckles. “Yeah. So this is the worst possible time, but I realised not telling you would be the one thing I regretted if something—if something happened.”

“You’re braver than me,” Tony admits. “I’ve loved you for years.”

“You’re the bravest person I know,” Steve corrects. He leans to kiss Tony’s hand. Tony looks at him, transfixed. 

He tries to step closer to Steve as he’s getting up. His right knee buckles underneath him, but Tony doesn’t even have to reach for anything to catch himself on. Steve’s arms are tight around him; much like the first time Tony woke up from his coma—and so very different. So much more intimate. 

He manages to stand on his own legs almost immediately—it _is_ progressing, he’ll be fine in a few days tops—but Steve doesn’t let him go. 

“I love you,” he whispers again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

And Tony just leans his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “I feel exactly the same.”

It’s Tony’s most cherished dream, but it’s better. 

It’s _real_.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Body Problem (In Articulo Mortis Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490289) by [navaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan)




End file.
